The Sweetness Behind The Ice
by daisherz365
Summary: AU Sherlolly Christmas fic. Also a bit of a side shot for my collection - A Study In Chemistry. Enjoy :)


**The Sweetness Behind The Ice**

_Hello again darlings. It is Christmas time and while I am still hashing out #24 of A Study In Chemistry I felt it was only right that I bring forward one of those stories that I have sort of left in my mind for the duo of Molly and Sherlock within the canon of the collection. The fact that it surrounds around the jolly holiday is only part of it. I hope you find it nice if anything at all. _

_Happy Holidays from me to you!_

•••

Molly didn't understand this, nor did she ever understand anything the tall man not boy did. John Watson had chosen to be with a friend of his, who just in case anyone asked was the kind of the female variety and her family. His parents had been okay with this seeing as they were just happy that he would be close by during this season.

Sherlock on the other hand had insisted that they not just he, they go to the Watson's home. She had asked why did she have to come? She was perfectly fine with being on her own during Christmas. His reply? "Do you have any idea how uncomfortable that would be? I am a friend of their son and they like you."

She asked about him going to his own family's home and he shot the idea down quite profusely, telling her at the end that they were not there. They instead had taken a winter trip to the Alps.

Molly had just agreed just so he would get out of her flat. He had been pestering her more often than she wished as of late. Normally she wouldn't mind especially if there was a way to shut him out but he had started to find a way around that. She had been rather obvious about that, he concluded.

So, now they sat in the sitting area of the Watson's home with a very silent older pair across. The only thing that Molly found helpful was that she had had hot cocoa to occupy her hands.

Sherlock was being quiet for once at her side. He was looking about the room as if he hadn't already seen it all before. She was certain that that was anything but the truth. From what she knew Sherlock Holmes had been here many times with John.

"Thank you for letting us stay with you. I know it's a bit weird but what to expect when you know someone like Sherlock."

Sherlock scoffed at Molly's blatant insult of him and stood quickly, walked over to the coat rack and grabbed his long coat. "Where are you going?" Mr. Watson called as he rose to his feet.

"Out for a walk."

Molly frowned at his actions before turning to the loving couple who looked at the door which had just been closed shut. They looked curiously at it for a moment longer before turning back to Molly. "So, how has work been dear?" Mrs. Watson after her husband had gone out the door no doubt in search of the brooding detective.

"Well considering there has been a less workload I would say that that's a good thing."

"Indeed. I know that you ans John are merely friends but as a mother I need to ask...what kind of person is this Mary? He's been very hush hush about her."

Molly laughed, "I actually have never met her myself. Sherlock seems to be irked by her so I think that's as good as any indication as any. I think John is quite smitten though."

"I can certainly tell that, dear. I do wish he would have just brought her along and came home. He's really the only one that can tolerate Sherlock. We love the boy of course, but..."

"Yes, well I think he's gotten better recently."

.

.

.

.

"Here we are. What do you need to do here?" Mr. Watson asked as he stopped a few paces away from the grave that he had only been to a few times with his wife.

Sherlock hummed as he crouched down in front of the small tombstone that just had a name and a small flower engraved below it. "She was Molly's mother. It probably sounds strange but maybe it will help me know about her by visiting her mum. Your family is supposed to be a mirror image of who you are...or at least that's what I've read."

"Wouldn't it just be easier if you asked her about Cecilia rather than brave the storm that is coming, Sherlock?" The older man shifted from one side to the other as he watched Sherlock brush his hand across the wet marble that covered the gravestone.

"I talked to her once about her. It's not nearly as informative as this."

"I'll be in the car for another hour and then I'll head back to the house, if you still want to stay." Sherlock stood and turned to the older man and gave him a jerky nod. "Thank you." He turned back around quickly reaching into his coat for something. Mr. Watson just shook his head at the younger man before heading back down to his car where it was much warm.

Back up the hill Sherlock placed a small set of three flowers that had been cut with close precision on the dirt. One was red, one yellow and the other green. He didn't move for a second after that only observing the engraving again as if searching for something specific.

He once again reached into his pocket and looked down in his hands as if reluctant to do something. That would be a first. He only glanced at what he held for a few moments before setting it by the flowers and standing back up. This time speaking at barely a whisper before heading back to the car. "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Hooper. It was nice to meet you."

Nothing was said as Sherlock came back into the Watson home. Molly had moved into the small area that housed the very first time she beat Sherlock at chess. She however now was curled up there reading a recent study on the decomposition of a heart that had been shocked enough times to never be able to function ever again. Twenty two times total, it was fascinating. Though at the same time really scary when she thought about how terrifying that would have to be for someone to experience time and time again.

It was only as her eyes were getting heavy and she was nearing the end of the article did the sound of a violin being played from upstairs bring her back to the real world. She shut the small sheath of papers she was holding and made her way towards the stairs. She followed the sound to her room, surprisingly enough and slowly walked through the door. Sherlock stopped playing as she stopped next to him. He let his bow down and peered to his side. "Interesting article?" He questioned as he set his instrument down on the small dresser and reached for her hand.

"Yes, a bit morbid but interesting all the same."

"Morbid, I think that'd be right up your alley Molly."

"Just because I work on corpses does not mean I like to think about gruesome tests on organs. Where'd you go anyways?" She said as she slowly padded over to her bed and sat down - her head against the head board.

"Nowhere important."

Molly frowned at his answer but shrugged it off as she slid down onto the pillow and closed her eyes. He would join her or he wouldn't.

The following morning Molly followed the familiar path up to place where her mother was laid to rest. She originally had decided that she hadn't wanted to come back her. Not because she didn't miss her mother dearly but because it would only make her wish she was here even more.

Something about being here again made her want to visit for a little while. She stopped short upon seeing the flowers first and then the paper that was there beside it. She reached for the paper quickly and nearly wanted to run back to that insane genius of a man. He really did like to fool people.

However this was a piece of evidence that not only was he just as sweet as the next man but he did see value in her and wanted to let it be known in some way. This may have been the most secretive way to do it but he was all about the secrets. She knew this more than anyone.

She read it one last time, the words echoing in her mind after placing it back down where it had been and making her way back.

_Mrs. Hooper,_

_You don't know me nor do I know you but I feel I must express things in this small message for you on this day. Your daughter Molly is my friend, ally, and at times the only person I can feel safe enough to trust. She is brilliant at the most crucial of times and I believe you should be proud of her for doing what she is doing wonderfully. _

_Not everyone can do what she does without wanting to quit after it. I think it's because of this strength and her value in my life as someone who won't settle for just any amount of fuckery or lies that I try to evoke to the world. She has this look about her that I feel both angry and happy when it appears. She is my equal and I need you to thank you for putting so much of the loving and caring-ness that I am sure you gave to her during your time together._

_It brings this tension that I've never realized could be possible within two beings. It is almost frightening but at the same time I don't want it to stop. _

_Molly makes me better, ultimately._

_I hope to be able to express my words easier next time but I feel you should know that Molly is doing just fine and I promise to make sure she is protected. I owe her that much as well as you for that._

_Merry Christmas._

_- __**Sherlock Holmes**_

Sherlock had been outside once again. This time behind the Watson's house inspecting the way certain plants looked crystallized with the snow and frost from the snow. He had been working on an experiment back home but this was much more exquisite. Being able to see it in it's own atmosphere made it very more informative.

He was adding his recent find about it in it's file in his mind palace when he was pulled right out of it as he was pulled down into a kiss by none other than the woman he had been wondering about just a few hours ago. He stilled a moment as he tried to inquire something about the current action. "What's this all about?"

He sounded very muffled as he reluctantly pressed his lips against her in a reciprocating kiss. He pulled back just a moment to be able to talk clearly, "I didn't spot any mistletoe. Why did you feel the need to pull me out of my thoughts with a kiss?"

"Because I felt like thanking you in my own way for being you."

He looked at her confused for a moment before just nodding. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Before we go tell me what you see. It's for an experiment I'm working on."

Molly shook her head at him as she spoke, "Do I look like a fool to you? No. Tell me about it instead. It'll make me happy." Molly laughed, as Sherlock took her hand.

Sherlock took this as a good thing before beginning his deduction of the plant. Molly couldn't help but feel this was easier to watch than him on one of his cases.

She did take a moment to gaze up at the sky and smile. What a Merry Christmas this turned out to be.


End file.
